In Silence
by fierysuzaku
Summary: Wales tries to figure out what's wrong and his brothers just refuse to talk about it


Wales knew there was something amiss the moment England walked in. There was nothing really wrong with him per se, clothes neat and posture ramrod straight as always, but perhaps it was the unusually heavy air of silence that pervaded the room that made something so ordinary like sipping tea while reading an old beaten novel of Pride and Prejudice seems so strange and foreign.

Already, he felt the alarms ringing warnings in his head.

 _Something's not right._

"Did something happen?" he asked, cautious and almost afraid of the answer when England gave him a small smile in turn.

It was soft. Gentle. And so fragile Wales could hear the edges of the facade crack beneath the emotions kept at bay. It sent a pang of worry into his chest, for England smirks, grins and preens but rare did those sad smiles ever grace his features.

"No. Why would you ever think of such a thing?" he said as the smile stretched wider and the brightness of his eyes dimmed a bit more.

Wales didn't believe a word of it but allowed his brother to excuse himself for the night. There were some things he'd just rather not meddle into.

* * *

The house had been awfully quiet for some time and Wales couldn't help but feel an uncomfortable lump form at his throat when he caught England talking to Scotland one morning in a tone so civil and flat he actually did a bit of a double take to see if it really were his brothers because those two are more likely to bicker, argue, fight and scream. On good days, they hide the sharpness of their tongues as they banter and jibe each other.

 _To interact with such cold and formal civility..._

"Did you guys have a fight?"

Scotland lifted his attention from the papers and met his gaze, "I don't know what you're talking about." He muttered before folding his papers and left the room, snipping whatever opportunity for conversation at the bud.

Wales did try to pursue the matter, but Scotland merely brushed him off with cool indifference saying it was nothing while England seemed to have made his office a second home for Wales have rarely seen England's car parked at the garage.

It took a bit of two weeks before Scotland started banging his way into the house. Slamming doors. Stomping heavy feet. Strong enough to rouse anyone from a comfy nap but never enough to break anything.

Wales took a breath of calm in preparation for the storm to come.

* * *

One day, he found England gone without a note or warning. This sent Wales into a mild panic, because this wasn't the first time England did this and the outcomes were never pretty.

"What do you mean, he's _gone_?" Scotland practically snarled, teeth tightly clenched as his fists.

"He's gone. His suitcase is missing along with a quarter of his wardrobe. And before you ask, no, he did not leave a bloody note," he reports while he watched Scotland took deep and heavy breaths trying desperately to calm down.

England was gone and told no one. He could be anywhere. He could be down in a local inn at some far English countryside. He could be in a Portuguese beach turning into a cooked lobster, maybe he's locked down in some dark basement with nothing but candles and books as he conjured up spells and brewed potions.

"That makes no sense!" Scotland exclaimed, brows furrowed trying to see a perfectly reasonable explanation for England and why he had the audacity to go AWOL on them considering everything seemed so peaceful nowadays.

 _And here I thought you've outgrown this phase Albion._ He internally sighed, recalling the times when Arthur preferred the title Captain more than anything else as well as the time when he'd rather set the PM's car on fire than attend one of those 'drab' meetings.

 _He better not be in one of those moods again._

"I know, usually, it's the other way around," Wales replied reminding Scotland of the times _he_ took leave and left England to handle things. "I don't suppose you care to explain why,"

"What are you implying!" Scotland snapped.

"You _know_ what I am exactly implying! You two have been dancing around each other for _weeks_! What the bloody hell happened?" He was tired and he wasn't stupid either. He knew about their relationship even before they became exclusive with each other.

"Nothing!"

He did not want to lose his temper, but Scotland was making it awfully hard with his shouting.

"You and I both know that's not true," he snapped, cutting it down to the quick.

He said nothing when he heard the door slam. He said nothing when Scotland didn't come back the next morning. He didn't say anything when he received a call from the local pub to retrieve a drunk Scotsman braying out songs of betrayal and heartbreak.

* * *

England returned after a month with an irate Frenchman carrying him to his doorstep saying that England had overstayed his welcome.

It didn't take a genius to know just how drastic things were because England went to France of all things and that the Frenchman actually tolerated him for a whole month without killing him.

And while France had the displeasure of being at the receiving end of England's woes, Wales had the pleasure of seeing his brother sleep the month away with alcohol while turning himself into a human chimney.

The two barely acknowledged each other and the silence between the two resumed.

Wales decided that enough was enough and left them to their own devices for the rest of the day. He came home to see everything in shambles and he almost had his hopes up when he noticed the unmistakable silence once more.

 _Shite._

* * *

He found them asleep in the garden. Arms entangled with cheeks stained with dried up tears. He didn't bother to wake them in fear of breaking this brief peace between them.

The next day, he woke up to the sound of whispered apologies and soft admissions.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"Albion. It was stupid. I shouldn't have said that."

"Yes, it was. A petty thing actually."

"You know my feelings for you. You know that I care. Truly."

A beat, a pause and Wales' own heart fluttered in both fear and anticipation.

"I know."

"Then tell me something else aside from I know! It was stupid argument gone wrong. And I am sorry but sometimes..."

Sometimes, Albion can be cruel as well.

"I'm sorry too... Alba I –"

Scotland and Wales breathed and that was enough. Wales didn't linger long enough to hear the rest. But he knew all was well once more when he heard a thud followed by a string of swears that could make a sailor blush.

 _Peace at last._

 _end_

 **A/N:** This thing has been sitting in my drafts for too long. Time to publish it. ^_^


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